


Hot as a Crate full of Apples

by fannishliss



Series: Kink List [30]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Apples, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Competence Kink, Guns, Kinktober 2018, Knives, M/M, Old Married Couple, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), and Steve has to admit Bucky is hot, my kink list, still pretty vigilant, warning there is talk of hunting animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 06:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16341227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: Bucky still keeps his guns clean and his knives sharp.  Does Steve find that hot? What do you think?





	Hot as a Crate full of Apples

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my kink list, Gun and Knives, in celebration of Kinktober and some stories finally coming to life after a long dry spell. :)

Bucky was at the kitchen table, his personal arsenal of guns and knives laid out for maintenance. 

 

Steve was across the room, on the couch,reading light on and latest book open.Steve was pretending to read, but he wasn’t really reading.He was listening to the metallic sounds as Bucky took care of his weapons. 

 

Easy, soft clicks and smooth sounds of metal sliding across metal.Gentle scraping sounds as he cleaned away excess burnt powder caked into recesses inside the gun, and the nearly silent trace of the oil he applied to the pieces before he put them back together.The skillful, methodical clicking as Bucky reassembled the weapons, swift and sure. 

 

Steve remembered the very first time he’d ever seen Bucky with a gun, back when they first moved in together after Steve’s mom died.Steve had come home from a job (he was capable of working, even though when he inevitably got sick, his jobs didn’t always last) and he found Bucky at their table cleaning a handgun. 

 

The gun was dull and black and looked heavy.Bucky was carefully taking it apart and laying each piece on a rag: the magazine, some kind of spring, the part that slid along the top, and a few other pieces Steve couldn’t name back then. Bucky pulled everything loose from the frame, and then he carefully cleaned each part with a fine cloth on the end of a stick, put it all back together, smooth and methodic. 

 

Steve waited until he was finished, then Bucky looked up and nodded at Steve.“Don’t think I wouldn’t use it, if I ever needed to…” 

 

“That’s not your dad’s…” Steve asked doubtfully. 

 

“No, but it’s the same kind.Few times we went to Indiana, when dad and uncle Joe went out hunting, they took me with them so I’d know how.” 

 

“What did you shoot?” Steve asked. 

 

“Small game…. rabbits, squirrels, sometimes a bird…” 

 

“Did you eat them?” 

 

“Of course,” Bucky said.“My grandma made the best squirrel stew.Don’t laugh!I’d eat a squirrel right now if I thought I could make that stew like she did. If you tried it, you would like it.” 

 

“You’re a good enough shot, you could hit a squirrel?” Steve asked. 

 

“Sure,” Bucky said.“Of course, it was with a .22, not a handgun. But all it takes is practice.” 

 

Bucky had never, to Steve’s knowledge, fired that gun he had owned in Brooklyn. But when he went off to basic, his childhood marksman skills came back to him and landed him a rapid promotion. 

 

Now, of course, Bucky was considered the finest marksman in the world — even by other world class marksmen like Clint or Natasha.Bucky didn’t shirk from honing his skills and maintaining his weapons.He didn’t go looking for trouble but it tended to find him anyway, and Steve understood why he had to be ready, even though both he and Bucky were semi-retired from action.Bucky still went to the range on a regular basis, and he and Steve made time to spar with each other and the other Avengers, so they’d be sharp if — when—they were ever called up. 

 

The guns all tended, Bucky moved on to the knives.He had so many knives and they were all as sharp as razors.He oiled them, inspected them, honed them just enough to make that sound that raised the hair on the back of Steve’s neck.One by one he went through the whole arsenal, and then, he put everything away.The knives were stowed all over the apartment, on the bottoms of furniture and inside cushions and inside the frames of electronics and along the tops of windowsills and under rugs — so many knives, all deadly, all sharp, and never more than a second away from Bucky’s deadly hands. 

 

Steve remembered how Bucky used to pare apples, the way he’d hold the paring knife in his right hand and turn the fruit with his left, and a ribbon of peel would fly off long and even and smooth.

 

Bucky finished up with the knives he was hiding in the bathroom, the bedroom and the walk in closet, and then he plopped down on the couch next to Steve. 

 

“Riveting?” he asked Steve, glancing at the book, with a tiny smile on the corner of his lips. 

 

“Huh?” Steve asked.“Oh, yeah.” 

 

“That’s why you’re still on the same page you finished last night,” Bucky laughed. 

 

“Maybe I was reviewing,” Steve said. 

 

“Photographic memory,” Bucky said, tapping Steve’s forehead. 

 

“You know I can’t concentrate when you’re making so much noise,” Steve complained. 

 

Bucky leaned closer. “Noise.” 

 

“Super soldier hearing now, Buck!” Steve said, eyebrows high.“I’m not deaf any more, you know!” 

 

“I can’t imagine how you tolerate the noise an oily rag makes on metal,” Bucky laughed. “Give it up.I don’t know why, but I know your secret.” 

 

“Maybe you don’t,” Steve denied. 

 

“But I do,” Bucky smiled. “Guns and knives make you hot.” 

 

“They do not!” Steve scoffed. 

 

“So if I did this,” Bucky said, his hand sneaking to Steve’s upper thigh, “I wouldn’t find… this.” 

Steve was sporting, of course. 

 

“Okay, but it’s not the guns and knives,” Steve denied, then moaned a little, his eyes falling shut as Bucky stroked him tenderly through his jeans. 

 

“Looks like it to me,” Bucky said.“Unless it’s, um, _Beyond Metropolis: The Planning and Governance of Asia's Mega-Urban Region_ s.Ooh, kinky!” 

 

Steve felt himself turning red as Bucky kept up his teasing. 

 

“Bucky, you know damn well if I get hot it’s cause of you — not cause of a pile of guns and knives!” 

 

“Hm,” Bucky said doubtfully, but his gentle hand kept stroking and Steve tried not to let his hips get away from him. 

 

“It’s just the way — you’re so focused — everything you touch, you’re just, mmm, so good at it — “ 

 

“Oh,” Bucky said.“So when I take hold of this…” 

 

“Oh, oh,” Steve moaned. 

 

“It’s not because of the guns and knives?” Bucky teased.

 

“You get me hot carrying a crate full of apples!”Steve panted. 

 

Bucky used to buy apples for Steve whenever he could afford them — everyone always said an apple a day would help Steve stay well.Sure, they got by on cabbage and soup bones and day old bread, but apples were one thing Bucky wouldn’t let Steve go without … even when he had to pare away the bad spots almost to nothing. 

 

Steve remembered the slices of apples that Bucky lined up on the plate for dessert, and how Bucky took the thinner slices and left the big ones for Steve. 

 

“You’re hot for apples, Stevie?” Bucky laughed. 

 

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Steve complained, and pulled him in by the shoulders and kissed him.Bucky wouldn’t quit until Steve shut him up somehow. 

 

Bucky smelled like gun oil and honing oil, but he tasted like straight up Bucky. Steve drank him in as Bucky’s hand deftly opened his pants and jerked him just the way he loved, a little hard, a little slow, as though they had all the time in the world. 

 

Which, Steve insisted, they did. 

 

“Bucky, Bucky wait,” Steve said, squirming until he had Bucky out and lined up next to him. It felt so good, touching like that, just like he always knew it would, even then…. it felt like Bucky was the other half of himself, matching parts of himself no one else ever seemed to notice. 

 

“So if I was holding a knife right now?” Bucky whispered. 

 

“Huh?” Steve said, a little busy with his own hands, one in Bucky’s hair, and one wrapped around them both, holding them together. 

 

“If I had this knife, pressed up against your rib cage,” Bucky said, and Steve felt a cold steel edge pressing into his skin. 

 

“Gah!” Steve said, surprised, and the adrenaline rush tipped him over, just as he was almost there anyway. 

 

Bucky rode him through it and didn’t even knick him with the knife, a folding blade four inches long.He folded it, dropped it, and kicked it under the couch, then came all over Steve’s stomach. 

 

“You are the absolute worst,” Steve said laughing. 

 

“You will never live this down,” Bucky said, and Steve knew he wouldn’t. 

 

All Bucky’s guns and knives were about one thing — the lengths he’d go to fighting for Steve.And honestly, secretly, it did make Steve feel warm — and his competence undeniably made Steve hot, whether or not Steve would ever admit it out loud to Bucky. 

 

Relaxed and laughing and sated and a little sticky on their couch in their twenty-first century home — they were happy, alive, and safe, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it was pretty funny when I finished writing this, a song was cued up in my itunes, and it was ["that's when I reach for my revolver" by Moby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0v9a-x45gw). :P But I have to admit, that song is in my Winter Soldier play list, and the next song up was "Take the A Train." So maybe it's not really a coincidence after all. 
> 
> The book Steve is reading is a real book, but I haven't read it. And incidentally, ["Beyond Metropolis"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXxPBiU6aCk) is a song by Shriekback, a British group I've adored for ages. So anyway a little shout out and plug for them. :)


End file.
